


Many Years Late, 2 Seconds Early

by Cassplay



Series: Red Lantern Iris [2]
Category: DCU (Comics), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Bisexual Ginny Weasley, Coming Out, Female Harry Potter, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:34:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21646096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassplay/pseuds/Cassplay
Summary: Iris Potter's heart is consumed by the rage of the Red Lanterns.Although Voldemort is dead, Hermione hasn't been idle.She intends to get her friend back.The first step is to find her way to America.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Series: Red Lantern Iris [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1560472
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Many Years Late, 2 Seconds Early

**Author's Note:**

> so screw that lantern collection, I wanted to explore this universe more

For weeks after Lord Voldemort’s demise, Hermione had blamed herself. Not for the defeat of one of the most dangerous wizards in history, of course; but she did blame herself for what happened with Iris.

It was true what Ron had said, that Iris had changed, but they had all changed. Those 5 years where Iris had vanished from their lives had seen a number of developments. In her opinion, the most surprising of which was her and Ron. They had gotten together during their sixth year, over the Christmas holidays.

It had been a remarkably dour affair; Christmas, not their relationship. Iris had been missing barely half a year, and no one really felt like celebrating her favourite day without her. The ‘party’ split into quiet conversation groups, with her and Ron discussing for the umpteenth time what had possibly happened to their best friend. In a corner of the room, Ron suggested that there might have been some mystery item with Iris from the department of mysteries. Hermione was rather surprised that he had thought of it before her. It seemed so obvious. But Ron always did have a talent for creative thinking that she had often struggled with, and she said so.

“Careful, Hermione; any more nice stuff about me from you and I might start thinking you wanna snog me.”

She then realised that she did want just that, obviously.

The relationship progressed steadily from there, heavily intertwined with the disappearance of Iris Potter. They talked to everyone who had arrived first on scene with Fudge together, and all the security that the Death Eaters had knocked out to allow them to reach the hall of prophecy uninterrupted. They even tried, and failed, at interviewing an unspeakable together. None of it led to anything.

After school Ron had gone to work with Fred and George in their joke shop. Business was booming, and Ron had more money alone than his whole family had during hard times in his youth. He wasn’t rich, but it was enough to make a modest living.

Hermione, on the other hand, she had much more difficulty finding a good job. Ten NEWTs and Head Girl meant a lot less when they were a muggleborn’s achievements. She was shuffled from job to job in the ministry, barely having time to make a good impression before she was transferred. So, she quit the ministry and tried to find apprenticeships. She had even less success there. Tracking down her Parents was looking more attractive of an option with every rejected owl application.  
She found her place eventually; none other than Flourish and Blotts. She was disappointed, and began writing rather stern ‘letters to the editor’ of the Daily Prophet. People started to like her opinionated writing, and before you knew it, she was also working freelance for a morning rag she still quite despised.

Ron proposed when they were both twenty, just a few months before Iris came back into their lives.  
It had seemed too good to be true when Ron had shouted that Iris was walking up the driveway to the Burrow. It turned out to be exactly too good to be true.

With rage in her heart and a red ring on her finger, Iris was completely different from five years ago. Because of a series of mistakes and misunderstandings, Iris had fled, most likely to never return.  
Just like that, Hermione’s unfulfilling, if stable, life had been shaken to its core. Her first friend was an intergalactic criminal and a murderer, but she had also reminded Hermione of something she was missing; purpose. Some sort of goal to strive towards. A few months later, when she couldn’t stand it any longer, she quit her job at the bookshop by owl.

She was just about to send a message to Dumbledore when she was interrupted. She had wanted to ask how to get in contact with that Warlock friend of his who had shown up the day Iris returned. John Constantine, she thought his name was. Ginny, visiting from her shared apartment with Luna, had asked her about the letter she was writing.

“I’m writing to Dumbledore.” Hermione said. “I was hoping to get in contact with that friend of his, John Constantine.”

“I know John, I could introduce you.” Ginny replied.

“How do you know him?” Hermione asked in surprise.

“Charlie introduced me.”

“So how does Charlie know him?” Hermione said. Ginny rolled her eyes.

“They got to talking after the battle, well; John was flirting at first.” Ginny said. “Didn’t realise Charlie isn’t the sexual sort.”

“John Constantine is a homosexual?” Hermione asked.

“Nah, he’s Bi.” Ginny said. “What’s with the old-timely language, anyway? I thought Muggles were more progressive with stuff like that than wizards.”

Hermione didn’t make much sense as she spluttered out an answer about how she had left the muggle world at age 11.

“So, anyway, he invited us to this wizarding LGBT support group.” Ginny said, and then, seeing Hermione’s face added. “Don’t look so surprised, you know Luna and I are… a thing.”

“What? But you dated Dean?” Hermione asked, thoroughly confused.

“Yeah?” Ginny said. “I just told you John was bi, didn’t it cross your mind that I am too? They probably wouldn’t have let me on the Harpies if I didn’t like girls anyway.” She chuckled softly.

“I mean, I had wondered why you were so eager to play for them, but I had no idea-“ Hermione started.

“That the only all-female team in the league might not be straight?” Ginny said sarcastically.

“Honestly, Hermione, next you’ll be saying the Cannons have a chance this year.”

“Ron’s already beat me to it.” Hermione groaned.

“What a little shite, betting against his own sister.” Ginny said, laughing. As she calmed down, she continued. “Sure, I can get you an introduction with John.”

It turned out that Ginny’s idea of an introduction was rather different than Hermione’s. Where she expected them to meet at a wizarding cafe in London, sometime mid-morning, Ginny organised for the three of them (plus Luna) to meet at a muggle pub in Manchester at happy hour. When they arrived Ginny just sat them next to each other at the bar, pointed at each of them in turn and said

“John, Hermione.” Before she dragged Luna off into a corner to examine an old pinball machine.

“So, what does one of Neeve’s friends want with me?” He asked, taking a pint glass from the barman with a smile. “Especially one of the straight ones, unless of course you didn’t want her to know yet.”

“Err, no.” Hermione said awkwardly, choosing to skip past Ginny’s nickname that she had known nothing about. “I wanted to talk to you about... about Iris.”

“Your friend the Red Lantern?” He raised an eyebrow. “’Fraid I can’t help with specifics, but I know a bit about their lot from League business.”

“What she said about the Ring, how it replaced her blood with light, and that if she ever tried to quit, she’d die; was that true?” She asked.

“Yeah, from what I heard from the Lanterns I’ve met, Red Power rings are a bit of an outlier as far as the various Lantern Corps go.” He said. “Jury’s still out on whether the Star Sapphires’ rings do affect the mind, but Red is the only one that takes a physical toll on the wearer.”

Hermione nodded.

“Like she said, a Red Lantern’s blood is replaced by light, powered by the ring and their anger.” He said. “As soon as they don’t have the ring, the blood blinks out of existence. Usually fatal.”

“Usually?” Hermione asked, hoping Constantine wasn’t just being facetious.

“Unless you’re empowered by solar radiation, and are in the middle of a sun when you take it off.” He said. “People have survived the debonding before. Couple of years ago the Corps all banded together and had a big recruitment drive, Heroes who received red rings were helped with permission of the Guardians.”

“Guardians?”

“Guardians of the Universe, created the Green Lantern Corps.” Constantine sighed. “Bunch of old bureaucrats, really.”

“And you said they allowed some people to be debonded?” Hermione prompted him.

“Blue Lanterns, basically sidekicks to the Greens, are able to help someone survive the debonding process.” Constantine said. “But it was only in that specific circumstance that the Guardians allowed them, and even then, only when they were heroes.”

“And Iris isn’t a hero.” Hermione said dourly. Constantine let the silence hang in the air for a bit.

“You want to help her.” He said, pulling a box of cigarettes from his coat.

“Well of course I do, she’s my friend.” Hermione said.

“That’s not going to mean much to her.” Constantine said, taking a cigarette and holding the box out to Hermione, who shook her head. “The Lantern corps only go after people who would be all in with them.”

“But I have to do something.” Hermione said. “I can’t just let her go around murdering people.”

“You got spirit; I’ll give you that. Constantine put the cigarette in his mouth and lit it with a snap of his fingers.

“You can’t do that!” She hissed.

“Do what?”

“Magic in front of muggles.”

“Look around, love.” He gestured over his shoulder at the quiet bar. “No one cares.”

“But the Ministry…” She began.

“The ministry ain’t responsible for me.” He laughed. “I’m outside their jurisdiction.”

“What?” Hermione said, not understanding him at all. “But you’re a wizard.”

“Warlock, actually.” He shrugged.

“But Dumbledore is chief warlock.” Hermione said.

“That’s just a title. A holdover from the olden days.” Constantine said. “Proper Warlocks are actually quite different to Wizards.”

“So, you’re not a wizard?”

“Nope, my parents were ordinary folk.” He grinned at her.

“Your parents were muggles?” Hermione said. “Then how do you have magic?”

“Learned it, the devil gave it to me, etcetera.” Constantine said offhandedly.

“What?” Hermione said flatly.

“Yeah, its really no big deal.” He said.

“No big deal?” Hermione said incredulously. “How can you say that?”

“I’m just used to it.”

“Used to it.” Hermione repeated. She took several deep breaths in and out, and got back to the subject at hand. “So, what would you recommend, if I wanted to help Iris?”

“Probably to catch her, and figure out a way to stop her dying before she runs out of power.” Constantine said. “Who knows, you might be able to do it, I’m not sure a magic user has ever tried.”

“There might be a way.” Hermione said hopefully. Then her face turned serious again. “But how to capture her?”

Constantine let the question hang in the air for a full minute before answering. Hermione was mentally reviewing her options, she could somehow get Iris to come to her, or she could go to Iris. But Iris was in space. Hermione had no idea if she could get out of the atmosphere, let alone to that planet Iris had mentioned. Iris had all but sworn that she wouldn’t come back to England if she could help it, so there was no way there.

“Your best bet…” Constantine said. “Is probably to go to Vegas.”

“Huh?” said Hermione, dumbfounded.

A cheer went up from the crowd as the magician was chained down to the chair. The setup was remarkably complex, Hermione had to admit. There was the metal chair, with metal cuffs around the wrists, ankles, waist, and neck of the woman sitting in it. The chair was welded to a metal grille, which was set into a set of rails that led down. As soon as she was finished being tied in, a latch was pulled letting the chair and its occupant slide into the water in the 3-metre-high tank below.

The top stayed open, although that may just have been to allow for the final, most terrifying part of the trick. Above the tank was a chute, a gigantic funnel containing what must be a cathedral’s worth of broken glass. The chute itself was blocked off, but the timer didn’t bode well for the magician’s chances. It had begun counting down when she had slid into the water, and Hermione glanced at it in apprehension.

51, 50, 49, 48.

The woman was struggling against the bonds. The loops of metal were locked down with padlocks. There was no where she could have hidden a key, her tight costume allowed everyone to see that.

39, 38, 37, 36.

The glass in the chute above her shifted, and the magician looked up. Whether it was from fear or anticipation, Hermione wasn’t sure. A silence fell on the crowd.

27, 26, 24, 25.

She was still struggling underwater, bubbles leaking out of her mouth every now and then. Hermione was on the edge of her seat, it had been such a good show, it couldn’t possibly end with this, could it?

15, 14, 13, 12.

She knew it was fake, but that didn’t stop her fearing for the woman in the tank. Of course, it was fake, wasn’t it? Could this be one of those horrible occasions when things went wrong? When the experience and practice of the magician failed to save them?

3.

The magician managed to get a hand free somehow. Hermione’s eyes slid upwards to the timer, and to her horror, she saw the chute opening early.

2.

Glass rained down on the pool, obscuring the magician in a rainbow of shards. The stage crew were running around, trying to undo the safety latches on the tank.

1.

The front of the tank fell forwards, letting water and glass flood forward into the prepared catchment area.

The glass reflected the spotlights as it slid across the watery floor, lying flat and showing one thing for certain. An empty chair.

A cheer went up from the crowd. She was gone. Somewhere in that maelstrom of death, the magician that had been chained up had disappeared.

Hermione’s face split into a wide smile as she noticed movement in the rafters. A long strip of black fabric fell down to the ground. The cheers from the crowd redoubled as, from the rafters, the magician slid down the fabric, with her arm and leg coiled in it to slow her decent.

She leapt off at the last second and flipped onto the floor, executing a crouched landing on the wet floor before she sprang up into a pose like a ‘Y’.

The crowd was wild, and Hermione joined in with their applause.

“Honestly, this journey was worth it just to see the show.” She said to herself.

Zatanna Zatarra was truly magical.

“Hi, you must be Hermione.” Zatanna said, after opening her dressing room door.

“Yes, that’s me.” She said. “Mr Constantine told you I was coming?”

“That he did.” Zatanna confirmed. She had changed out of her stage costume and into a casual pair of yoga pants and a loose top. She stood back from the door, inviting Hermione in. “Did you manage to see the show?”

“I did, it was fantastic!” Hermione said, coming in. “I just can’t work out how you managed to apparate up to the rafters in the grand finale. You couldn’t turn or anything.”

“Hermione, I don’t use my magic in the act.” Zatanna said. “It’s all sleight of hand.”

“Muggle magic?”

“I mean, I don’t really call it that, but sure.” Zatanna ushered her over to a pair of chairs by the makeup station. She sat in one herself and turned around, leaning down to a cooler underneath the desk. “Did you want something to drink?”

“Just water is fine, thank you.” Hermione said, watching as Zatanna rotated the chair back, bringing with her two plastic bottles of water. Hermione accepted it with another, slightly awkward, “Thank you.”

“John didn’t really tell me much beyond you wanted to talk with me.” Zatanna said. She opened the bottle of water; the lid gave a chorus of cracks as it broke the seal. “I thought it might be a magic problem, but surely there’s people who would know more in Britain.”

“It’s about the League.” Hermione said, opening her water too. Zatanna’s eyebrows rose. “Or more specifically, someone who has fought them before.”

“A supervillain?” Zatanna asked. Hermione internally cringed at the term being applied to Iris.

“Do you know about Iris Potter?” Hermione asked.

“Caused the disappearance of Voldemort about twenty years ago; I know of her.” Zatanna said. “Disappeared herself five years ago.”

“She came back recently; Mr Constantine was there.” Hermione said. “She… She had become a Red Lantern.”

Zatanna’s face began to portray an emotion, only for her to stop, stunned, as she heard those last two words.

“Oh geez.” She said, her face going slack. She looked up with concern at Hermione. “Was she a friend of yours?”

“Yes.” Hermione said simply.

“I’m going to level with you, kid.” Zatanna said. “That sucks.”

“Mr Constantine sent me to you because he thought you were my best shot at finding her.” Hermione said. “Specifically, he said: becoming your apprentice was my best shot at finding her.”

“Damn Constantine.” Zatanna leaned against the desk and rubbed her temples with her thumb. “I tell him in confidence I’m looking for an apprentice once…”

“Oh uh, I’m sorry.” Hermione said.

“Nah, it’s okay.” Zatanna said, ceasing the rubbing. “Well I guess that’s one way to get yourself an interview.”

“Thank you.” Hermione said, the corners of her lips threatening to tug upwards.

“You’re from Britain, so I’m assuming Hogwarts?” Zatanna asked. Hermione nodded. “What were your favourite subjects?”

“Well, I got ten outstanding NEWTs, so…” She started to explain, before she was cut off.

“Wait, you got ten NEWTs and you haven’t been snatched up by a master yet?” Zatanna said.

“Well… I’m muggleborn, so…” Hermione explained.

“Oh of course.” Zatanna groaned. She looked at Hermione with a frank expression. “Backwards Britain.”

“Yeah.” Hermione said, trying to laugh it off.

“But I didn’t ask what you did well in, I asked what your favourite subjects were.” Zatanna clarified.

“I…” Hermione trailed off. “I never really thought about it.”

“Just off the top of your head.” Zatanna prompted.

“Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, Ancient Runes, and Arithmancy.” She said in quick succession.

“That’s better.” Zatanna said. “Now knock another two off.”

“What? But I can’t do that.” Hermione said. Zatanna just gave her a look, and after much straining, she muttered out. “Arithmancy, Potions, and Runes.”

“There. That’s better.” Zatanna said. “Now why were you so stubborn in keeping transfiguration and charms on the list?”

“I just like them.” Hermione said.

“I don’t doubt it, but not as much as the others.” Zatanna said. She leaned in and put a hand on Hermione’s shoulder. “It’s alright.”

“I was always better with less improvised things.” Hermione said. “Things I had time to think through, where I had time to re-check my answers. I’m just not as good as thinking on my feet. I find it difficult.”

“And that’s why you included charms and transfiguration?” Zatanna asked. “Because they’re more… in the moment disciplines?”

“I’m afraid you might not accept me as an apprentice if I wasn’t good at improvising.” Hermione said.

“Hermione, I’m the exact same way.” Zatanna said. “I practice every trick at least a hundred times before I put them in my show.”

“That’s different, there’s not going to be the chance to do that in a fight.” Hermione said. Zatanna smiled.

“Hermione, that’s the whole point of an apprenticeship. If there was nothing that you couldn’t learn on your own, then there’d be no point in me teaching you; you could just self-study.” Zatanna said. “Confidence will come with experience.”

“Well, if you’re sure.” Hermione said.

“Are you trying to argue against me taking you as an apprentice?” Zatanna said. “Because that would be a bit disappointing for me.”

“No of course, not. I’m just trying to…” Hermione said, trailing off. “Wait, are you saying…?”

“Sure am.” Zatanna said. “Getting your friend back will be difficult, but I can tell you’re going to try anyway, I might as well give you a shot. Getting my dad to stop pestering me about grand-apprentices is a bonus.”

“I’m not really sure what to say.” Hermione said, a smile rising on her face. “Thank you! I’m not going to make you regret this!”

“I’m not worried.” Zatanna said. “Come by my penthouse tomorrow morning, and we’ll sort out the details.”

Hermione left the casino still buzzing with excitement. She had actually gotten the apprenticeship. She was going to be trained by one of the most experienced combat magicians in the wizarding world. There was so much to consider, she had to find some sort of lodgings here in the States, probably in Las Vegas. Would Zatanna have a room she could lodge in?

Although it would probably make more sense if the casino where Zatanna performed put her up in a room while her show was going, and Hermione definitely couldn’t afford to rent a room at that schwanky place in the long term. Maybe Zatanna could talk to the hotel?

Hermione passed the large fountain outside the casino.

She’d probably need supplies. This was sort of like going back to school. Hermione smiled; it was all so exciting. She’d learn combat magic, maybe not first thing, but eventually. She’d be ready to save Iris when the time came. The time would probably come sooner than later, given how readily heroes attracted the attention of villains.

Hermione turned, dashed back to the fountain, and flicked a penny into it.

“I’m going to get her back.” She said, filled with determination. She yawned. “but not today.”

Hermione made her way back to her room, filled with hope for the future.

The thought of her fiancé didn’t cross her mind until the next morning.


End file.
